MELONY
Hollis: Be ready by six, Hot Sex.
Hollis: P.S. wear something slutty.
Hollis: P.S.S. don’t actually wear something slutty. I don’t feel like beating the shit out of people tonight.
Hollis: P.S.S.S. I missed you today. From now on, you must send me a picture of you at least sometime during the day so I can see your gorgeous face.
Hollis: P.S to infinity, take a selfie with me tonight? I want it as a screensaver on my phone. Can’t wait to kiss that perfect mouth of yours. XOXO
All right, so the man can text, I will give him that. With every text he sent, my smile grew. Is this what it feels like to be in a relationship with someone? Constantly smiling like an idiot at a piece of electronics? If so, we must all look like a bunch of lunatics.
I’m going to get Noah Calhouned tonight. I’ve never been romanced; I’ve never really been on a date before. Yeah, I’ve gone out to dinner with a few men, but I’ve never been picked up from my place for a date, or wooed before through text messages. And I’m sure Hollis will hold my hand the whole night because he can’t be a few inches from me without touching me somehow whether it be my lower back, or him guiding me by gripping the back of my neck. He’s not opposed to PDA; he actually thrives off it.
Something he also thrives off? Embarrassing me every chance he gets. It’s the smart-ass in him, and for some reason, I like it. He makes me laugh, puts ease in my heart, makes me feel secure about myself.
When was the last time I ever felt secure about myself?
Never . . .
Even though he seems so perfect, there is that stupid voice in the back of my head trying to insert doubt, trying to make me second-guess everything, but I push her back and tamp her down. It’s time I live in the moment.
My phone rings.
Hollis.
“Hey,” I say, putting him on speakerphone so I can finish curling my hair.
“Hey, baby. Just got out of practice. I’m sore as fuck, so I hope you plan on riding me tonight.”
“Who says I put out on the first date?”
He chuckles. “Believe me, Hot Sex, once Big Daddy is done with you tonight, you’ll be pulling my clothes off with your teeth.”
“So confident.”
“Confidence grows dicks.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Eh,” he chuckles, “made sense to me. I’m going to run home quick, take a shower, and then head over to your place. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, don’t be late. It will reflect poorly for you on after-date activities if you are.”
“I knew you were a hussy who put out on the first night.”
“Goodbye, Hollis.”
“Pretty sure that’s not my name, Hot Sex.”
I laugh to myself. “No way in hell I’m calling you Big Daddy.” Before he can answer, I hang up with an even bigger smile on my face now.
Honestly, I’m really excited about tonight. What does he have planned? Will he take me to dinner and that’s it? Or does he have something else special planned . . . besides his sexual fantasies.
And what kind of sexual fantasies does he have? Is riding him one of them? I think about the possibility, of me on top, my hips spread, taking him inside me, running the length of his cock against my clit in just the right position.
My body heats up from the possibility. Yeah, I could join in on that little fantasy. Hell, it’s not even a fantasy, it’s something I have to do now.
I can see his heady eyes now, barely able to look at me to peruse my body. I can feel his hands gripping my thighs, guiding me along his cock, his glorious cock.
Dude has cock.
That will forever be etched in my memory as the biggest truth I’ve ever been told . . . no pun intended.
For months Hollis has taunted and teased me with sexual proposition after sexual proposition, and if I’m honest, I’ve been left in a constant state of frustration. Yet, I’ve kept him at arm’s length. But now, now I get to experience him, and I have to admit I’m actually surprised just how good sex is with him. He worships my body. The way he touches me—electrifies me—is beyond what I expected, and I expected a lot. I had only wanted one night, but I'm amazed I get to have more. It's as if he was made only for me. And of course, that makes me want him more. After I left Bellini’s house, barely squeaking away from day two of possible pimple appearance, I decided to pamper myself. I went to one of my favorite boutiques, found the perfect emerald-green form-fitting dress that hits mid-thigh with long sleeves and no back, bought a pair of gold stilettos, and had my nails done in matching gold tones. No need for lingerie since the back of the dress is non-existent and I don’t care for underwear most of the time.
Eyeing the dress hanging on the door behind me, I try to picture Hollis’s face when he sees me in it. Pretty sure he’ll love it, especially the plunging back and the way it shows the curve of my ass and outline of my breasts. Yup, it’s scandalous at best, but I don’t care. I want to look hot tonight.
Since we’re going out in the evening, I gave myself a brown smoky-eye with heavy-lidded liner, thick mascara, and just a few individual fake lashes in the corner of my eyes to brighten and widen my eyes. As for my hair, loose waves pieced out by styling wax. And to top it all off, a peach gloss to tie in the natural gold and brown tones I used.
Looking into the mirror, I fluff my hair, pleased with how everything came out.
Eep, I can’t wait for him to see me.
Putting on my dress takes finesse as I slip it over my head avoiding any makeup smearing or messing of the hair. I shimmy it down my body, that’s how tight it is. My mom would so not approve of this dress.
My mom.
Shit, I need to call her. I haven’t talked to her since Sunday, when I told her to talk to me once she’s done airing our dirty laundry. Guilt consumes me, acting like a wet blanket on the excitement I had for tonight.
I want to give my best to Hollis, he deserves it, so I swallow my pride and dial my mom while I finish putting my dress on. Her voice rings out over my speakerphone.
“Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Mom,” I answer awkwardly. “Uh, how are you?”
“Better now that you called.” She’s always been good at getting right to the point.
“I know, I’m sorry.” I sigh and sit on the edge of my tub. “I was such an ass to you the other day. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment from me.”
“I don’t,” she says honestly, “but I understand where your passion was coming from.”
“Still not an excuse. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for apologizing.” She pauses and says, “Can I ask if anything good came from that day?”
I knew she was going to ask that. When I agreed to seeing Hollis, I told him I wanted to keep it between us, but my mom is different. She deserves to know. She’s earned that right, being that she raised me and provided for me on such low earnings. No matter what, she always made sure I had a decent childhood. The least I could do is tell her I’m seeing someone.
“Um, yeah. I’m kind of seeing Hollis.” Quickly, I say, “But we’re not telling anyone right now. I don’t want to make a big deal about it because this is new for me, and I think if I keep it simple, just him and me, I have a better chance at making something of it.”
“I can understand that. Thank you for telling me. I promise to keep it to myself and wait for you to inform me of what’s going on.” God, she knows me so well. “But can I say one thing?”
Ha, it wouldn’t be my mom unless she tried to get her two cents in. “Of course, Mom.”
“From the few spare moments I spent with Hollis, I could tell he was genuine, thoughtful, the real deal. He’s a good one, Mel, so don’t push him away because you get scared, okay? I think he’s the perfect match for you.”
“Funny, he seems to think the same thing.”
My mom chuckles. “I could see that in him. Confident, but not too cocky.”
Too cocky . . . if only she knew how much cock he really has.
“Be kind to him, sweetheart. He’s a good guy.”
“You’re not just saying this because he is an Olympic diver, are you?”
“No.” She grows serious. “I’ve seen my fair share of poor excuses for men. What I see in Hollis is different. He’s one of a kind, honey. The kind of man you don’t ever want to lose. Cherish his heart, you will want to use it for protection over yours.”
Annnnnd now I’m getting emotional.
“Okay, thanks, Mom.” Clearing my throat, I say, “I actually have to go, he’s taking me on a date and will be here any minute. But thank you . . . for everything.”
“Anytime, honey. Have fun tonight. Don’t think too much, just feel.”
I hang up the phone with my mom just as my doorbell rings.
Just feel . . .
I slip on my shoes, grab my clutch, and walk to my door.
Just feel.
I can do that. I just hope I fulfill what he’s looking for in a partner, that I’m enough for him.
Please let me be enough.
With a deep breath and a semi-firm bravado of leaping into the unknown, I open the door to find Hollis, one hand on the doorjamb of my apartment and the other in his pocket. His hair is perfectly messy, styled but in a way that seems like he just ran his hands through it a couple times. Encasing his powerful and strong legs are tight, fitted navy chinos, clinging desperately from his calves to his waistline—very Euro looking. He’s wearing a dark grey sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows showing off his impressive forearms and hanging loosely around his neck is a long necklace with a triangle at the end of it. Why does a simple accessory seem so hot? But that’s not what has my attention, igniting a flame deep within the pit of my stomach. It’s his eyes penetrating my guarded veneer, eating me up with hunger that has me quivering in my heels.
He gives me a once-over, his hand running over his chin in awe. It’s a simple move, one that doesn’t take thought to make—it’s just an immediate reaction—but it says everything a woman wants to know when she meets up with a man; he wants me.
“Shit, baby.” He steps forward and takes hold of my hand. He lifts it above my head and forces me to spin for him, his other hand lazily traveling over my body, appreciating my outfit. “This dress is sinful, Melony. Are you trying to kill me before we even step foot outside?”
“Just trying to keep you interested,” I tease, loving the way he wraps his arm around my waist and presses his arm palm against my exposed back.
“No need to do that, babe. My interest is sated where you’re concerned. Come here.” Desire. I can feel it from him as his hand runs up my bare back and cups my neck, pulling me in for a panty-melting kiss. “Mmm,” he moans, placing his forehead against mine. “I fucking missed you today, but it was worth the wait. You look beautiful, baby.”
His words cut deep, searing my heart with hope. I know I didn’t have to get all dolled up for him, but I wanted to because sometimes, a girl needs to dress up, put on some makeup, do her hair and wear a killer dress to throw her man into a tailspin of yearning.
Her man . . .
Is Hollis my man?
The way he’s eating me up right now, his hands wandering, exploring the ins and outs of my dress, his lips caressing my cheek, my jaw, my neck, I would put a safe bet down to say he’s mine.
Letting him kiss my neck just a little more, I say, “You look good yourself. I always see you in workout clothes, so I didn’t know you owned such stylish apparel.”
“You think I’m stylish?” he asks, his lips doing naughty things to my ear, his hands caressing my back. “Well, hell, I’ll always wear these clothes then, even when diving.”
“Not sure other women would appreciate the lack of Speedo,” I point out, his hand running over my ass and dangerously close to the hemline of my dress where his fingers play with it.
“Fuck other women, I only care about you.”
“If that’s the case,” his hand slips under my dress and starts traveling upward again—such a naughty, naughty man—“if I’m the one who gets to pick what you wear on the diving platform, then I pick a rainbow thong.”
Without hesitation he says, “Done,” just as his hands connect with my bare ass. A groan rumbles up through his chest and into my ear where he’s playing with my lobe between his teeth. I wasn’t expecting foreplay in the entryway of my apartment, with my door still open, but I can’t seem to stop him. “Fuck, you’re not wearing underwear, are you?”
“Do I ever?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, allowing him better access. My hands are now holding onto the belt loops of his pants, trying to steady my balance.
His breathing his harsh; his fingers dig into my ass. Erotic electricity bounces between us, and I’m instantly wet from the feeling of his hard cock against me.
“Melony.” He heaves a tortured breath. He starts to move his hand to my front, searching out my clit, but I stop him by the wrist. His eyes shoot to mine, pain and pure torture clear in his expression. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not going to let me touch you?”
Mustering every ounce of courage I can find to not let this man take me back to my bedroom, I say, “Tonight is about you romancing me, remember?”
“Yeah, I do.” He looks dead serious, with a twinge of desperation. “Let me romance you with my tongue and then we can get on our way.”
“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head, clearly destroying all of Hollis’s hopes and dreams. “Noah Calhoun wouldn’t stick his tongue in a girl’s pussy the first second her saw her.”
“Noah Calhoun was also in his prime when The Beatles were born, so licking a lady’s pussy wasn’t a way of greeting.”
“Like it is now?” I ask sarcastically. “Pretty sure I don’t see men bending at the knee to greet a woman with one swipe at the clit.”
“Like I said, men are idiots.” His smile is impossible.
Stilling his hands, I say, “Come on, show me your moves outside the bedroom. Woo me, Hollis.”
Sighing in defeat, he steps away and adjusts his pants, clearly trying to tame his bulge. Quickly, he runs his hand through his thick faux hawk and then twists the front strands ever so slightly, messing them up. So. Hot.
His soulful eyes glance up at me as he holds out his hand. “You look gorgeous, Melony. Are you ready for our date?” The dark, sinister voice he was using while his fingers pressed into my ass is gone, and a more contemplative Hollis greets me now. And yet I don’t see disappointment in his eyes.
Feeling bad that I squashed his dreams, I lean into him, pressing my breasts against his chest and speak into his ear while gripping his scruffy jaw. “If you do a good job wooing me, I might just let you finish what you had planned.”
His face morphs, his eyes burning into me. “Challenge accepted.”
Oh hell, I’m way in over my head. From the look of determination in his eyes, I know the last brick of the wall I resurrected over my heart is going to fall. Hollis is about to destroy every preconceived notion I have had of men.
And honestly, I want him to. I so desperately want him to.
***
Fun fact: don’t ever challenge Hollis Knightly. He will win.
I’ve learned that over the course of getting to understand this man. When you lay down a bet, you’re going to lose.
That’s why I’m on the verge of turning into an exhibitionist and putting on a show for all voyeurs to watch.
The night didn’t start out innocent by way of ass grabbing in the apartment hallway, but it fizzled into a regular date when we got into Hollis’s Prius. Well, I shouldn’t really say regular date. By no means has Hollis taken me on a regular date. When he said he was going to romance me, he wasn’t kidding.
In the car, we talked about the Olympics and his competition. It’s a known fact that Hollis is a cocky bastard—he doesn’t hide that—but when he spoke of his upcoming competition—that’s how he referred to it, although it seems a little bigger than just a competition—he was confident in his abilities to take home another gold. He wasn’t overtly cocky, or waving his gold medals around saying he was the best in the world. He spoke with assurance of his abilities and the training he’s put in. It was downright sexy hearing him speak of his sport.
At dinner, he pulled out my chair for me. I didn’t expect anything less on that end, but what I didn’t expect was for him to move his chair closer to mine so he could hold my thigh the entire time. Not my hand, but my thigh. His thumb gingerly stroked my skin as he spoke. It came so naturally to him, that the movement was flawless but consuming on my end. There were many times I couldn’t even concentrate on what he was saying because his thumb was distracting.
Conversation was easy. Dinner was exquisite, especially when he chose to feed me parts of his, wanting to share in the flavors. It was romantic with the view of the ocean, the candlelit atmosphere, and the sexy-as-hell man sitting next to me, giving me his undivided attention, eating up every word I spoke, never once looking at his phone that remained in his pocket. HE was engrossed in everything about me.
That to me is romance. You can make grand gestures of presents and promises all you want, but it won’t affect me. What cut through the icy chill of my heart was his attentiveness, his intrigue, the way he watched my lips while I spoke, and the way he engaged in conversation, asking me questions, really paying attention to everything I had to say. In a digital world where connections to the outside world sit at our fingertips, to have someone so solely focused on everything you have to say—that to me is sexy, romantic, awe-inspiring. And completely Hollis.
With his undivided attention, he was showing me how much of a different man he truly is, blessing me with him, and only him.
After dinner, he linked our hands together and guided me to the ocean, where we are currently sitting on the beach, watching the waves roll in one by one, indulging in the tiramisu we got to go. My back to his chest, his arms wrapped around me, his hot breath in my ear, chuckling and teasing me while he takes turns feeding both of us with the one fork the restaurant gave us. It’s intimate, different . . . utterly fantastic.
I never knew this is what a relationship could be like. It seems so effortless, uncomplicated, like we were meant to be together.
I would love to say it’s freaking me out, that I’m scared out of my mind, but for once in my life, I can say I’m not. I feel so incredibly full, so enriched by the company of another soul, it’s addicting.
I don’t feel lonely.
How I’ve been wrong for so long, it kills me to know that I’ve been missing out on companionship. But even then, I know I wouldn’t feel this way with another man. I know these feelings are because of Hollis and the way he treats me. It’s his personality, his charisma, the way he touches me gingerly, with loving affection, and the way he looks at me, as if I’m the only woman that would ever make him happy. How could I not become addicted to such attention?
It’s impossible.
A little piece of me is scared, and I don’t know how to handle this feeling overtaking my body, that he will one day . . . leave.
It’s the reason why I’m staying reserved, why I’m keeping this relationship between us, why I want to still tread cautiously. Because what if one day he sits back and realizes my flaws—my scars—are too deep for him to reach? To heal. What if we have a disagreement about something neither of us can find a common ground? Will it drive us apart? Will he take that opportunity to leave?
Will he ever leave?
“You went quiet on me.” His deep voice speaks closely to my ear. “What’s churning in that beautiful mind of yours?”
“Nothing really,” I answer, not wanting to get into my worries. “Do you ever feel like you only truly see the stars when you’re out by the ocean?”
“They’re non-existent in the city,” he agrees. “Which makes it that much more special to come out to the beach at night.” He kisses the side of my head and sets down our finished desserts. “Did you have a good time, baby? I know there wasn’t a lot of fanfare, but I wanted to keep things simple.”
I lean into him and wrap his arms over my chest so he’s hugging me tightly, my head resting on his shoulder. “I’ve had an incredible time, Hollis. I don’t need fanfare, I just need you.”
That garners me another kiss. His entire body is wrapped around me, and it’s so damn comforting. I never want to get up.
“Can I talk to you about something that’s been weighing heavily on my mind?” His voice grows serious. It’s a tone a rarely heard unless he truly wants to convey something to me so I perk up, wondering what he wants to talk about.
“Of course.”
One of his hands lazily runs along the skin on my forearm as he speaks. “I leave for Rio in a day. We go to Georgia first and then to Brazil. I know you’re going to attend the games but that gives us a couple weeks apart.”
“Okay,” I say, wondering where he’s going with this.
He sighs and leans his head closer, speaking directly into my ear, nervousness in his voice. “I’ve worked so hard at getting to this point with you, Melony. I’m worried we’ll revert back to where we were when you were barely speaking to me.” He kisses my temple and continues, “I don’t want to lose what we have because of distance. I don’t,” he pauses, trying to gather his words, “I don’t want you to think I left you.”
“Hollis,” I say incredulously, “I know you have to go to training. I’m not stupid to think you’ve left me.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid, baby. I just get fucking nervous as hell that the next time I see you, you’re going to act like we’re strangers, like I’m a thing of the past. I have no clue how to make that not happen. I would love to say I know how you tick, but I’m still learning everything about you, especially in that sealed vault of a mind you have. I need your help. Help me figure out how to keep this feeling between us while I’m gone.”
The anxiety rolling off him in waves saddens me. The beautiful, caring man. I don’t blame him though, as he’s right. I’m a flight case at best. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I was the strong, confident woman everyone wants to see, but I’m damaged, permanently scarred by a man I should have been able to trust with my life. That leaves a mark, no matter how much I try to deny it. Unfortunately, the mark he left behind has affected me well into my twenties. I’m still affected, but I do want to try.
I don’t know what to say to Hollis. This is the first time I’ve ever been in a relationship, and I don’t know what works. I have no clue how I’ll feel when he’s gone. Will I miss him? Will I be lost without him? Will I be one of the girls who’s become dependent upon her man?
No, I don’t believe I will be. I’ve been independent up until this point. If anything, I would resume my regular life . . . and . . . oh. That’s what probably terrifies Hollis.
I lean down and kiss his hand. “I wish there was some kind of magical equation I could hand you to keep me at bay but I honestly don’t have any clue how to direct you. You’re my first true relationship, Hollis. I really have no idea how any of this works. I mean . . . are we in a relationship?”
Possessiveness takes over him as he squeezes me tighter. “Fuck yes, we’re in a relationship. I thought that was clear. Have I not shown you my intentions? Melony, you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. Ever.” Ever? He swallows hard, a little malice to his voice. “I sure as hell hope the feeling is mutual.”
Does he think I’ve been fooling around with others? As if that was even a possibility. No one even comes close to resembling Hollis. It’s not just his build and finely cut body, but his charismatic attitude. He engulfs me, practically drowns me. There is no way I could even think about anyone else.
I turn my head and look him in the eyes. “Hollis, the feeling is more than mutual. I just, I’ve never done this before so you have to guide me step by step.”
His body relaxes and sinks into mine once again. “You’re my girl, Melony, and I want to keep it that way. This is new between us, and it’s scary to you, I get that. But to keep it going, we are going to have to put forth an effort while we’re apart. Let there be physical miles between our bodies but not between our hearts.”
Our hearts. Those words resonate deeply with me. I’ve never given my heart over to another human before. Thinking back over the last few days, I can honestly say, it is scary. I’ve been slowly handing him over broken piece by broken piece, looking for him to put it all back together.
Will he finally be able to mend it?
The thing is, I want to wait around to see.
“Then let’s work on it. What will it take? Calls, texts, video chats?”
His nose runs along my ears, sending chills down my arm. “I’m pretty sure the prescription for long-distance relationships is lots and lots of phone sex. I mean, we’re talking about getting seriously raw from diddling so much. Check your fingers, are they pruned? No, then more phone sex. Plus I will need a mold of your breast so I can stick it in my mouth whenever I want.” And he’s back to sarcastic Hollis, which makes me smile. Funny how I missed him.
“Why do I feel like you’re not going to let up on the mold?” I ask teasingly.
“Because you know my addiction to your tits. You have to feed it baby, be an enabler. It’s for America.”
“How is a mold of my boob for America?”
He bites down on my ear lobe, a moan slips out of me as I tilt my head to the side, loving the way his lips feel on me.
“Because, a mold of your boob will help ease the pressure I’m carrying from having to claim another gold medal. America is counting on your tit.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Well, America is going to have to think of another way to be supportive. There will be no molding of my breasts.”
He shakes his head behind me and huffs, “And here I thought you were patriotic.”